


And Now Ed Isn't Allowed to Cook Ever Again

by Colonel_Gloves



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Edward Elric Swears, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, M/M, Ridiculous, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colonel_Gloves/pseuds/Colonel_Gloves
Summary: Ed’s afraid of needles. And that... that is one big needle.





	And Now Ed Isn't Allowed to Cook Ever Again

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, One in a Million is still in progress- I'm slow, but I do always finish my fics! Have a crackish oneshot of nonsense to tide you over, instead.
> 
> Be forewarned: this is cheesier than a four-cheese grilled cheese sandwich without the cheese.
> 
> Cheese. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

Ed was pretty sure the look on Roy’s face was one of the most insulting things he’d ever seen.

Which was impressive, because this time, the bastard wasn’t even trying to be rude.

Seething in silence, he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth, this time almost as an unspoken challenge. He devoured his way through each bite, and glared on in silence- even as Roy slowly set his own utensils down, dark eyes meeting his in an unreadable stare.

“...That was, quite possibly, one of the worst things I have ever tasted in my life.”

Ed nearly choked on his food.

Okay, so maybe the bastard _was_ trying to be rude.

“What the fuck is your problem, you asshole?!” Ed snarled, taking another huge bite as fast as he could. “Tastes fine to me!”

Roy gave an exaggerated shudder and shut his eyes, but he did pick up the spoon and go for another, more normal-sized bite. “That view you just treated me to is more disgusting than eating this, I’ll give you that...”

“Tastes. _Fine.”_ Ed swallowed quickly, pushed his spoon around the plate again to get another bite, then waved a finger at him. “No! Tastes _better_ than fine! Tastes _wonderful! Amazing! More flavorful than-“_

“Excuse me, flavorful?!” Roy, who’d been prepping for a fourth bite, dropped his spoon with a clatter and stared at him, open-mouthed. “Flavorful, Ed?! This,” he drew a circle in the air over his dinner, “is not _flavorful._ This is what happens when someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing gets their hands in a well-stocked kitchen.”

“ _Doesn’t know what they’re doing?!_ Fuck you!” Ed sat back with a huff, resisting the urge to chuck his spoon at the bastard’s gigantic head. “Like _you_ know how to cook! You know what? I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen you make anything besides coffee! You can’t even manage _toast,_ you pyro- you burn the shit out of it!” 

Roy arced another eyebrow in tandem with a cough, and fuck, it really wasn’t fair for him to look that attractive while also making fun of him.  _“This,”_ the colonel said again, ignoring the jab completely, “tastes like you threw everything spicy you could find over a pile of bland shit. Trust me, I’d know. That’s a staple of bad Xingese food, and I’m half Xingese. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve tasted that.” 

“Bl- _bland?!”_

“Yes, _bland!_ Oh, I’m sorry- was that too _big_ a word for you-“

Spoon, meet Roy’s head. Roy’s head, meet spoon.

When the silverware clattered loudly to the floor, Roy gave a slow, irritated blink, seeming too taken unawares to have anything approaching a decent comeback. Scowling all the while, Ed grabbed the colonel’s plate for himself, stole the spoon from his unresisting hand, and pulled both across the table. “More for me, then,” he snapped. “Starve. See if I care.” He took in another bite, then, as an afterthought, tacked on, “Didn’t even  _use_ anything spicy anyway- hell, this isn’t spicy at all, bastard- so I guess your taste buds are just something else stupid about you. Like your head. And your face. Stupid ass.”

“I thought you liked my ass.”

Oh, that stupid, smug, stupid bastard.

“Only when you’re not being a jerk,” he muttered back, and _no,_ he was _not_ flushing, and waved the spoon in his direction. “Which is basically all the time.”

“So, essentially, you _don’t_ like my ass?” A weary, maudlin sigh. “What a shame, after all the effort I put into... into staying in shape for... Ed, what did you just say?”

Ed paused mid-bite, glancing up at the bastard to find the colonel staring at him now, all traces of previous amusement gone. He frowned at him, taking another bite. “What?”

“You just said you didn’t use anything spicy? Anything at all? You’re _sure?”_

Ed glowered at him. How the hell would he not be sure? Did Roy think he just chucked random shit in a bowl? “Uh, yeah, I’m sure, idiot.”

“Then what _did_ you use?” 

“...Why do you want to know?” Ed looked at him suspiciously, then leaned forward with a jab of the spoon, his eyes widening. “You liar! You just want to know how to make it on you’re own! You _know_ it’s good, admit-“

“Edward, I’m not joking! Tell me exactly what you put in this _now!”_

The slam of palms meeting table was unexpected enough to make Ed flinch, and when he looked up again, smile shocked right off his face, it was to see Mustang on his feet, and the look on his face was not  _Roy-bastard_ anymore _,_ it was  _Colonel Mustang._

Whatever was going on, it clearly wasn’t funny to him anymore.

“...Uh... chicken,” he stammered out, swallowing his last bite, any remnants of his own amusement now gone as well. “Rice, onions, um, that weird sauce you said you liked...”

“Anything else?!” Roy pressed, his voice dangerously low. The colonel raised a hand to rub at his throat, twitchy and nervous in a way Ed didn’t think he’d ever seen him in before, and something about it almost scared him.

“...Cinnamon,” he finished meekly. “It was missing something, so I added lots of cinnamon before-“

And then Roy was gone, torn away from the table to dig through his briefcase on the floor, scrabbling on his hands and knees and working through such a panic it left Ed stunned.

“Mustang, what the fuck-“

“I’m going to kill you, Ed! I’m going to _kill_ you- provided you don’t kill me first!” 

“What?!” Ed scrambled upright now, dinner all but forgotten, and dodged around the table to stare at the colonel still currently ransacking his bag. “You- what are you even-“

“I’m serious this time! Start running, _start fucking running_ , because when I get- get my h-hands on- y-y-you... _ahhhh...”_

And, with that, Roy collapsed.

“ _Mustang!”_ Ed shouted, hitting the floor seconds after him and kneeling helplessly by his side. The colonel writhed on the tiles, wheezing and scratching uselessly at his throat with one hand while still pointed haphazardly towards his bag with the other, gasping out something close to his name, and Ed swore. “Goddamn, Mustang, what’s happening?!”

“ _Bag... Ed, m-my b... ag...”_

When the bastard’s head lolled limply and his eyes started to flutter shut, Ed threw himself forward in alarm, grabbed the damn bag, and was back at his side before the next second was out.

When he ripped it open, the large, plastic case was already lying on top of all the papers, found by Mustang’s earlier scrounging, and it instantly answered any and all unanswered questions and left him gaping in horror.

“Holy shit, Mustang,” he choked out, grabbing the epi-pen the moment he’d managed to kick himself back into action again. “Why the hell did you never tell me?! That’s something you’re supposed to tell someone when they’re cooking for you, you huge _ass!”_

Impossibly wide, red eyes flickered over him once- oh fuck, his lips were turning  _blue-_

Then, without so much as an eye roll for a reply, the hands still scratching at his throat fell limply to the floor, and Roy passed out.

“Son of a shit, I don’t think so! You’re not getting rid of me that easily, bastard!” Ed drew the device back, flipping the protective cap off, and prepared to dive it straight down into the meat of his thigh.

And then, he actually looked at it.

_It_ , being the biggest needle Ed had ever seen.

It had to be at least two inches long, and it wasn’t thin, either, not like the morphine ones Winry and Pinako had or the IVs at hospitals; no, it was  _big._ It was really, really fucking big, and suddenly, looking at it, and realizing he was supposed to bury that  _in_ Roy’s skin, was just...

Oh, hell no.

Wait- no, no,  _no,_ he could do this. He could totally do this! It was just  _one_ needle, and was it a big deal? No, it wasn’t, it was just a few second’s worth of childish discomfort, that was what it was, and without it, Roy could actually die. And what kind of a death was that? Fed to death by lover, then left to die with an antidote literally two feet away from him the entire time? No, that death was just  _pathetic._

He could do this.

A deep breath for preparation, a shudder to stave off anxiety, and Ed drew the needle back again to swing it down.

His arm got only halfway through the strike before bravado wussed out on him again, and Ed found himself staring at the needle only inches away from pinpricking his skin, nauseous and shaking.

On second thought, just calling an ambulance actually seemed like a great idea.

And, honest to god, Ed actually thought he would’ve done it, too, if he hadn’t caught another glimpse at Roy’s face just before sprinting away towards the phone.

He was whiter than a sheet, lips blue and cheeks fading that direction, too. Slumped utterly motionless save for still constant struggle to breathe that wracked his suffocating body- a struggle he could not win alone.

Ed looked from Roy’s face to the needle again, cursed, and shut his eyes.

_You owe me for this, bastard...!_

His eyes still shut, he jammed the needle straight down into Roy’s leg.

It took all his self control not to yank away when he felt the metal pierce flesh and then bury deep down into it, digging into tissue with all two inches of the thing. He squeezed his eyes even more firmly shut and turned his head away, whining through clenched teeth at the god awful sensation, but still held the stupid needle down and waited.

The five seconds it took for the drug to take effect were some of the longest of his life.

The five seconds of senseless trembling and gasping breaths that came after it were some of the best.

Roy lay heaving on the floor, eyes shot open wide as he panted wetly, sucking in each breath in a weak but relieved wheeze like it could be his last. Ed fell back on his heels with a gasp of his own, this one of relief, leaving the needle behind, rubbing a hand over suddenly wet cheeks. “God fucking damn it, Mustang,” he gasped when he could speak again, shaking violently. “Don’t go and pull shit like that.”

Slowly, black eyes wandered to rove over him, still wide and dilated and shocked. He was sweating and shaking but the blue was fading, though when he tried to speak, he failed completely, and Ed cursed again. “Fuck. Hang on, hang on, I know; still need to call an ambulance, just hang on for a second, don’t go anywhere- don’t give me that fucking look, bastard, you are  _going_ to the hospital even if I have to drag you facefirst-“ 

Yet Roy still gave him  _that_ fucking look, all the way to the damn phone, though during the course of the call the irritation faded to weakness that faded to shut eyes altogether, and the bastard slumped back down in exhaustion, still gasping. Ed made the call as quick as he could, to the point of ignoring the last question of _and can you stay on the line for me, sir,_ and just left the phone dangling right off the hook. “Mustang, hey, stay with me,” he pressed, dropping shakily to his knees beside him again.

The colonel cracked his eyes open to look him over again. Ed had expected to find annoyance at being woken up again but there was only a fatigue, fatigue and fondness, and slowly, Roy lifted his hand a scant inch off the ground, waving him a little closer.

“What? Are you okay?” He leaned down, straining to hear what the man was trying to say. “Can you breathe all right? Do you need-“

“...still gonna kill you...”

“Oh, for god’s sake!”

Lips cracked into another tired grin and Ed threw his hands up in exasperation, sitting back again. Typical. Save his life, and what do you get? Gratitude, kindness, a genuine smile? No. Because Roy Mustang was incapable of being a decent human being. No, Roy Mustang was a  _bastard_ through and through, and even right now, that was still what he was:  _a bastard._

Roy’s head rolled again, and Ed watched as the colonel looked himself up and down in curious self-examination. After a few moments, he raised an eyebrow tiredly, then glanced up to Ed, eyes suddenly bright. “G-got over your f-f-fear of n-needles...” He glanced again towards the huge one still sitting in his leg. “...for me...”

Blinking, Ed looked towards it as well, winced again, then glared at him. “I’m not a fucking wuss like you,” he muttered out, but his voice was weak. “It was either a needle or you dying, and, well, I figure if I kill someone with my cooking, I’ll never be able to convince someone to try it again. That’s all.”

But Roy was still smirking, looking immeasurably proud of himself now. “You love me... m-more than you fear needles,” he rasped, voice hoarse but smugness in it still unmistakeable.

Unbelievable. Absolutely  _unbelievable._

“Shut up, bastard,” Ed ground out, but he could already tell that his cheeks were flushing pink, and he glared even harder at the colonel just to try and intimidate that stupid grin off his stupid face.

It didn’t even come close to working; he just kept on smiling, dark eyes blinking past fatigue and still bright with enjoyment. “You love me more than you fear needles,” he rasped again, the words somehow a sort of confident accusation, and Ed just gave up.

“You know what? Fine.” He raised his hands so Roy could see, holding them both up in the air. “This one is needles. And this one is you.”

Mustang’s hand was held less than an inch above the one given to needles.

Then, grinning maliciously, Ed switched designations, proclaiming, “And now, this one’s for  _milk,”_ and lifted his previous needle hand as high as it could go above the colonel. “So you’ve still got some work to do, bastard.” 

Roy again did not look even close to fooled, but the bastard played along all the same, rolling his eyes in tandem with a smirk. “You’ve got a deal... so l-long as I cook... from now on...”

Distantly, Ed heard the sound of paramedics finally arriving, and he grimaced, starting to rise reluctantly- their arrival being the only thing to stop a smack to the back of Roy’s head, most likely. “Hang on, I’m going to get the medics. Stay alive, bastard.”

“Ngh... Ed, w-w-wait...”

The strained voice actually did stop him at the edge of the room, if only because it sounded really difficult for Roy to speak that loudly and something in him twinged sadly at the rough, exhausted voice. He glanced back worriedly only to see that the colonel had, with great difficulty, raised his hands to mimic Ed’s, less than an inch between them, and was looking at him again with sincerity burning in glazed black eyes. “Y-you,” he stammered, wriggling the higher one a little. “Rain.” The fingers of the lower one squirmed.

And with that, he passed out.

Probably a good thing for Ed’s pride, because once he managed to stop staring in surprise, he couldn’t even slow the soft smile from spreading over his entire face.

“You are one cheesy motherfucker, Mustang,” he managed, voice weak, and swallowed past the suddenly emotional tightness in his throat- thanking god the bastard wasn’t awake to see the display.

“Guess you’re lucky, since apparently, I love cheesy motherfuckers.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> am i the only one who feels like they just ate a mouthful of spicy when they accidentally eat something they're allergic to? no? just me? 
> 
> thanks for reading! :D


End file.
